


not just any kiss; the kiss of true love

by pIatonic_Iove



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 5+1, M/M, elements of growing up, i forgot to give warnings for language and a few instances of consuming alcohol!, i'm mean to maths for no discernable reason, kiss buddies to friends with benekiss to lovers, school au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pIatonic_Iove/pseuds/pIatonic_Iove
Summary: > "then can i kiss you?"> "i don’t know, may you?"> "mayi kiss you?”> "sure."// 5x1y fic where jisung has only one memorable interaction with his schoolmate, hyunjin, until they kiss at a party and then, well, let's just say horses wouldn't be called 'horses' anymore // title is from ursula's line in the little mermaid //
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin
Comments: 21
Kudos: 109





	not just any kiss; the kiss of true love

**Author's Note:**

> \- hi everyone, so i started writing this, eldritch abomination noises, bon appetite
> 
> \- but hey, at least i changed up the side ships this time! whoot variety! 
> 
> \- i might have a bit of a lengthy end note but 
> 
> \- in any case, happy end of the year festivity vibes to all!

**\- one**

There was this quote Jisung remembered reading once, a long time ago, and once in a while, he takes those words down from a shelf in his mind, flipped them this way and that, like rolling a coin across his fingers. 

_Some people say it’s sad how parallel lines run along the same track but never meet, but what about perpendicular lines, that touch once, and never see each other again?_

Jisung thought, dully, with his tendency to wax poetic, that it rather aptly described him and Hyunjin. 

In the first 18 years of his life, he’d never had any connection with the other boy save for one moment so distant and hazy in his memory, he could almost believe it was simply a mirage cooked up by one of his childhood fevers. 

For once upon a time when Jisung was eight, there had been a day in which he forgot to pack gym shorts for gym class, and it had been such a devastating slip up for him then, the worst tragedy his underdeveloped brain could conceive, that he’d started wailing inconsolably in the food court. 

His mother, bless her soul, tried her best to calm him down. She held him close to herself, rubbed circles in his back, and promised she’d deliver a pair to him before gym period but Jisung’s world had been irreversibly ruined. He’s too absorbed in his self pity to notice anything in his surroundings (which in hindsight 20/20, was dreadfully embarrassing) and it wasn’t until a pair of gym shorts were shoved into his hands that he stopped crying. 

He learnt later, by way of his mother’s explanation, that a kind lady whose son had an extra pair of gym shorts on hand happened to be walking by and took pity on them so she volunteered her child’s clothes. 

She didn’t tell him the name of the mystery benefactor, she might not even know Jisung realised, but he sees the characters for ‘Hwang Hyunjin’ scrawled in messy black marker on the inner tags. 

He’d heard of Hwang Hyunjin, his was one of those names that travelled around in the halls, usually because a teacher had gotten mad at him. Jisung knew they were in the same grade but not the same class from how he sometimes spotted the guy a few columns away during assembly. He stands out, Jisung notes, he’s on the tall side for kids their age and always seen with two other friends. They band together like brothers, three musketeers against the rest of the world. 

Jisung never found the courage to approach them, so he keeps the gym shorts, somewhere in the deepest recesses of his wardrobe, and only rediscovers them whenever his mother forces him to dig out some old clothes for charity. (And every time he looks between the fabric and the plastic bag, and every time he sets it back in the corner he picked it up from.) 

It might as well be, Jisung thought, going back to his little perpendicular lines spiel. 

Hyunjin and him were just different like that. 

Jisung wouldn’t say Hyunjin was a troublemaker, although he did make a bit of trouble, but it was more like he has a one track mind and a deep passion for dance. Unfortunately, dance is not an official subject at school. And that is why he drove the teachers up the wall. 

Jisung could relate. He wouldn’t call himself an honour student either, couldn’t declare studying to be his passion if he tried. But he was curious about the things that science and geography spoke about the Earth, intrigued by History, and captivated by the tongue of Literature, brimming with desire to harness its power in his own pen. Combined, it made him a decent student, and he’d been on the Dean’s List rather consistently but it’s not the pretty picture his peers made it out to be. After all, maths existed, and gave him a tough time, and he would do anything to break the toes of whoever put binomial theorem into the syllabus. 

He supposes it’s only karma when maths hates him back, after all for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. 

Touch once and never meet again, his ass, because here he was, trapped in a dingy storage closet with the very guy he’s been thinking about never interacting with for the past 700 words. 

The synopsis of the situation was that Jisung had been invited to a party to celebrate them graduating from junior college. Most of them were above 18 (birthdays not withstanding) but there was still something that felt illegal about holding a can that they’d been conditioned for years upon years that they shouldn’t even think of touching, and that unverbalised feeling of flirting with danger amplifies, like pouring alcohol onto a flame, to feed it until it scorched a ring around them. Yet intoxicated by the smoke, they would let loose inside tonight and only figure out how to cross the blistering borders come tomorrow. 

Jisung initially came to sit next to a few classmates whom he chatted with occasionally. Someone he didn’t really know but was friends with his acquaintances joined them. Thus, the vague web of connection expanded, a growing katamari, until there was a good number of them gathered in a circle, speed running through any party games they knew. 

And then someone suggested they should play Seven Minutes in Heaven. 

Jisung had gone along with it, happily lightheaded and uncaring that the bottle could very well land on him. Which meant that it does, right after it lands on Hyunjin. Everybody cheered, but at that point everybody would have cheered if the ceiling collapsed. Even Jisung was cheering as he stumbled into the closet with Hyunjin. Someone outside sets the clock. 

Jisung had never seen Hyunjin up close before, and where was the surprise there? Over the years, the echo of Hyunjin’s name in the hallways had propagated from just the teachers to boys and girls openly swooning over him, and so close Jisung could understand, objectively. He was pretty and had a good build, carrying with him an air of grace and gentle strength that he’d probably gained from all that dancing, earning himself the nickname of Prince. 

_And I have the Prince’s old gym shorts in my wardrobe._

Seconds tick by and Hyunjin was the first to try and break the ice. “Erm, hey, Jisung, right?” He cringed at his own delivery. “Didn’t expect you to come to a party like this.” 

Jisung felt like he should be affronted by the insinuation but his head was lightyears away from his body and it’s not like he wasn’t aware of his own reputation. So he chuckled instead. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me~” 

“I suppose that’s true.” 

There were another few seconds of silence, and once again it was Hyunjin to say something. “So do you want to do anything? I mean we don’t have to follow the rules, we can just talk. Or not talk at all. Anything, really.” He shrugged. 

On some really twisted logic, Jisung figured that he owed Hyunjin one. After years and years of holding on to his gym shorts, so he deferred the final decision to the other boy. “Sure, anything you want.” 

“Erm, well,” Hyunjin stalled, “this is just a game right?” 

“Just a game, yes.” 

“Then can I kiss you?” 

Now, Jisung really hadn’t been expecting _that_ but he wasn’t sure he’s in any position to ask why, they weren’t on close enough terms afterall. The simple fact of the matter was: he’d already forfeited his right to choose. So he only blinked a few times, watching dust swirl around Hyunjin who’s looking down. “I don’t know,” he laughed, leaning in, “may you?” 

Hyunjin giggled. “May I kiss you?” 

“Sure.”

It’s soul-crushingly awkward, Jisung almost wished he could just be flattened onto the sidewalk and be done with it, the way they approach each other so slowly, with the palpable uncertainty of angling their heads. Then Jisung squeezed his eyes shut just in time to feel a warm, incessant press against his own lips. 

It’s nothing like how he imagined a first kiss might go, it’s just nothing actually. No spark, no fanfare, just someone else’s lips - Hyunjin’s lips - pressed against his own. The warmth is pleasant though, and Hyunjin smelt nice, like lavender and salt, that Jisung felt a small pang of loss when they parted. 

His eyes open slowly, like rousing from sleep, and Hyunjin was there, something indecipherable on his face. Jisung doesn’t blame the guy. Hell, he short circuited hours ago. Still, he leant in a little, cocked his head to ask if the latter was feeling okay, and Hyunjin kissed him again. 

This time it’s not just a mere touch but with more intent, pushing against and pulling apart, twice, thrice, up and down the merry-go-round. Hyunjin’s taller, Hyunjin’s always been taller, so Jisung found himself being leaned into and his frantic hands shoot up to wrap around Hyunjin’s neck so he doesn’t feel like he’s going to fall. While his hands were there, he felt his fingers curling into the smooth locks of Hyunjin’s hair. Expectedly (because the whole night has been in expect the unexpected territory) Hyunjin snaked a hand to support him by the small of his back. 

And it felt like flying in a lucid dream, soaking in the sun through his pores after sitting in a freezing library for hours. 

Yet like all dreams, it had to end. Someone knocked from outside, startling the both of them. Their Seven Minutes in Heaven are over. They break away, one last look at each other. Jisung offered a small uncertain smile, Hyunjin nodded his head. Then they were back on Earth, a place where they’ve never held a conversation, and couldn’t be expected to be found in the same room. 

Only there was a small difference, an extra wingbeat of a butterfly hanging in the air. 

Some God up there has gotten the calculations on their particular equations horribly wrong. Jisung sighed. Fuck Maths. 

**\- two**

At 19, Jisung shocked his entire primary and secondary social circles, by giving up the Regular Universities in favour of art school, to pursue a degree in Music Production. 

They shouldn’t be _that_ surprised, he bristled, the signs have always been there. He did always love music, and the moment he drew a connection, hummed a line of his poetry to a flittering melody in his head, it was like the penny dropped. 

His mother was the only one whose first response hadn’t been to squawk about squandering his good grades in school. However, though she tried her darndest to be supportive, she still brought to his attention the same rhetoric about the lack of good opportunities for artistes, about living paycheck to paycheck, and not having any _real_ valuable skills to take away should he fail to realise his aspirations. 

Jisung’s sure she meant well, but combined with the looks of pity from his teachers and ex-classmates, it sets his nerves on edge either way, and he shuts them all out with some of the most aggressive lyrics he’s ever written. 

At least Changbin and Chan seem to like them. 

Ah, Changbin and Chan, the left and right wings on his back, truly. He’d met them both online. Between hyping each other’s works and offering each other featurings, Chan had taken it upon himself, the innate leader that he is, to sweep them into a group. 

And a group they have been ever since. Both of them had been the ones to put the idea of Art School into Jisung’s head, not through any overt persuasion on their part but rather despite the ever flowing complaints about the workload, there was a true joy that seeped into what they were saying. That the knowledge they were acquiring through the programme was surely shaping the way they personally engaged with music. Jisung was greedy for a taste, too. 

So when he told the both of them he wanted to try for it, and they immediately sent back supportive stickers in the groupchat, Jisung closed his eyes and leaped. 

The day he got accepted, Chan insisted they meet up at his place to celebrate, and as much as his mother would skin him alive for it afterwards, there was such thrill in taking a two hour long train ride towards an address for which he’d launched the map app on his phone for the first time since getting the device. 

When he met the two in the flesh for the first time, it’s disgustingly sappy how it felt like he’d already shared a life with them before, the way their conversations easily pick up from the last text and blooms into speech. Chan is more prone to mischief than his formal typing would suggest, and it was culture shock to _hear_ Changbin’s baby talk with his own ears, but it all _felt_ right. 

They performed together too, live, for the first time, and not just through digital mixing. Jisung thought he might cry. 

Changbin knocked over a bottle of hot sauce in Chan’s kitchen in his excitement and Chan named them after that. Jisung cried for real. 

What about Hwang Hyunjin? Jisung’s annoyed at his own train of thought. 

Well, to nobody’s surprise the boy who gave up his homework in favour of dance joined a dance programme at the same art school Jisung enrolled in. 

Hyunjin (now with hair that’s long and blond because no more mandatory uniforms, woohoo!) caught sight of him across the hall a couple of times and they share a wave that’s short but not sweet, and clipped but not rude, the perfect blend of friendly cordiality only achievable by being schoolmates for over a decade and never having said anything to each other outside of having kissed once at a party. 

Sometimes Jisung thought of stalking over, tapping his shoulder, saying ‘hi’, but as always he’s deterred by the presence of Felix and Seungmin, who’ve both also entered the same school, attached at the hip indeed, the Sun, the Earth, the Moon. 

Other than those fleeting passes, Jisung doesn’t see Hyunjin around that often. And he’s really starting to catch on that thoughts like these were exactly what they called, in the industry, a “flag”. 

It was close to midnight on an otherwise mundane Wednesday, and Jisung had left his lyric book in the practice room he’d used that afternoon. Pure genius move. Not only was he putting some of his more private thoughts out in the open, to be accessible as easily as flipping pages, but the notebook’s exterior was… Oh how he’d rather be un-alive. 

Hence, he would argue, it was only a _smidgen_ frantic that the moment he realised he didn’t have the book on his person, and a brief recall cluesd him in that the only place he’d gone that day was the practice room with Changbin and Chan, he was off like a shot. 

On paper, the premise was supposed to close at 10:30 but there were always students who would try to squeeze in as much practice as they could to the point where the unofficial closing was closer to half past twelve, when the guard makes his rounds because no, the institution was not going to let a bunch of teenagers-slash-young adults camp overnight on campus, signed, Administrations Office. 

Still, Jisung took the steps two at a time, ignoring the burn in his thighs as he pumped his way onwards, and threw open the door to Room 325, only to all but break his standing broad jump record (if in the wrong direction) with one sprightly backwards leap when he caught sight of a shadowy figure in the corner. 

“Jesus Horatio Christ!” 

The figure whipped around, murmuring “fuck, fuck, fuck” as they, for some reason, desperately and clunkily stormed towards Jisung. 

While Jisung’s fight-or-flight response left him to bleed, the person grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him into the threshold of the dim practice room and slammed shut the door, wincing at the instantaneous ‘boom’. 

From Jisung's position flush against the guy’s chest, at least that’s one measly clue to the stranger’s identity, he could feel him holding incredibly still, as if he didn’t even want to be heard breathing. And Jisung found himself tensing up as well, waiting for the unseeable ghost procession to move past them. 

At last, after what felt like forever, he chanced a glance upwards with a small tilt, slow and careful like backing away from a wild animal. Then he squeaked. 

“Hwang Hyunjin?” 

Hyunjin looked like he should have broken his neck, snapping his attention down as quickly as he did. 

“Han Jisung?” Hyunjin still had his arms on his waist, Jisung noticed. Hyunjin seemed to notice at the same moment because he’s pulling away like he’d just been burnt. “Wh-what are you doing here?” 

Jisung snorted. “I could ask you the same thing?” 

It’s dark around them but Hyunjin’s close enough in proximity that Jisung can see the clear conflict swirling on his face. Finally, he let out a soft sigh and signalled for Jisung to follow him deeper into the room. 

The whole situation had been iffy from the start and Jisung’s coping mechanisms have a track record for not being the most helpful. He cracked a joke, “dude, you in the business of smuggling the coca cocaine?” 

Hyunjin spun on his heel and sputtered. “No, you oaf, don’t make things weird, I’m just trying to camp here overnight.” 

“Amigo, that’s not any less weird. Isn’t that also illegal? Less illegal maybe, but illegal all the same.” 

“Okay, look,” Hyunjin groaned, “there’s a trick to this okay. First of all, I chose this room because rooms in this wing have this particular layout, see the part there where the wall juts out? It’s a blindspot. The guard only passes by this area once at the start and end of his shift so I just have to hide there until he makes the check. It’ll be around 1, I’m told. After that, I’m basically in the clear to dance as much as I want until the end of shift at 6, following which I am no longer illegally on the premises.” 

Jisung had to take a moment to let the information sink in. “That is one elaborate ass plan.”

“I know, right?” Hyunjin smiled. “A senior shared it with me. She’s been doing it for months and hasn’t gotten caught.” 

There was something a touch mad about the nonchalance but hey, Jisung’s not one to judge. If anything, “why go through all the trouble?” 

“Erm…” Hyunjin trailed. “There’s this assessment coming up? I’m kinda nervous about it since- wait a minute.” Hyunjin seemed suddenly to remember something. “Why are _you_ here?”

“Oh. Right. Me, myself. I left something here this afternoon and came to get it.” 

“That’s it?” 

Jisung chuckled. It had been terribly important for him to safeguard his notebook, and it still was, but his motivations paled in comparison to Hyunjin with his whole chest declaring that he was going to stay on campus overnight. 

“Well, sorry we can’t all be dancing around, pun marginally intended, the lines of legality like you.” 

Hyunjin threw his head back with laughter, then immediately straightened with a jerk, clasping his hands before his mouth. 

“Ssssssh, we’re gonna get caught!” 

“We?” 

“Yup.” He popped the ‘p’. “I wouldn’t recommend leaving right now,” Hyunjin sits down beside his bag and notes the time on his phone. “The guard will likely see you at the entrance.”

“You’re shitting me.” 

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ here too. 

So Jisung sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“Fine. But first I’m looking for a notebook. Have you seen one around?” He traced a rectangle in the air with his fingers. “About this big.” 

Some weird form of recognition morphed on Hyunjin’s face.

“No way,” he inhaled lightly, “the FUTURE belongs to those who BELIEVE in the BEAUTY of their DREAMS, belongs to _you_?” 

Yes, it was a gag gift from Changbin for getting accepted. No, Jisung doesn’t want to elaborate. 

“Oh My God.” Was all he said by way of answer, and Hyunjin was laughing again, so hard in fact that he leaned back and allowed himself to topple onto the floor. 

Jisung swatted at him. “What happened to getting caught?”

“But!” Hyunjin whined, “you’re just too precious! Wait, no, I mean priceless!” 

“Prick.” Jisung wrinkled his nose. 

At last Hyunjin calmed down, sitting back up with the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry, sorry, it’s over there by the speakers.” 

Jisung took a few quick steps over, eyes straining on the lookout against the dark. “So…” He broached, “you didn’t look inside, did you?” 

“No. Quite frankly, I thought it was a teacher’s belonging.” 

“Good.” 

It was too loaded, even Jisung could tell, the atmosphere suddenly very heavy with defensiveness and deliberation. But the clouds shifted and a bit of moonlight slipped in through the blinds, a pale moonshine that Jisung sipped unwillingly, and the next words were spilling out of his lips as he went to sit beside Hyunjin on the floor. 

“I write my lyrics in here and some of them are…” He made a gesture with his hand. “Unbaked? Raw?” 

“Ah.” Hyunjin nodded, and was able to find a new topic of conversation. “Speaking of, I was quite surprised when I saw you during orientation.” 

‘Isn’t everyone?’ Jisung thought bitterly to himself. 

“But that’s probably since I don't know that much about you, isn’t it?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So what did you enroll for? I see you around the Studio block most often.” 

“I’m here for Music Production actually.” 

“Woah, sounds cool! What’s that like?” 

“Oh we do Music Theory, a little bit of History. There’s also lyric writing and learning to use mixing softwares…” 

“You enjoy making songs then?” 

“Yeah I do.” Jisung pursed his lips. “You know, you’re taking this super flippantly. Most people point out my grades and question me about my decision first.” 

Hyunjin blinked at the sudden derailment. 

“Well, I am a little taken aback, yeah. But you said it before yourself, there’s a lot I don’t know about you. So I guess I wanted you to… tell me more?” 

“I said that before?” 

“Yeah, sounds like you don’t remember though.” 

“Huh? And here I am, misjudging you. Guess I should practice what I preach.” Jisung put his notebook down to hug his knees. “Tell me about Dance.” 

Hyunjin scrunched his face. “I don’t know what to say. There is that assessment coming up, that’s one thing.” 

“The one you’re nervous about?” 

“Yeah that one.” And perhaps Hyunjin tasted the moonshine too, his eyes twinkle with the silvery light. “It’s just… Before coming here, I’ve… I’ve always been told that I’m good at dancing, you know, that I have talent for it. But everyone here’s just as talented, if not more so. I thought I was lucky. I know I love to dance, I’ve known it since I was a child, and somehow I thought my life path was so simple. Just go through dance school and come out the other side as a professional. But that’s what everyone here thought. It makes every move that much harder to strive for. I’ve had strict teachers before, but when they chastise me, I feel the need to prove myself. When the lecturers here point out my flaws, they sound so certain, it almost sounds like I’ll never do it right and I… I’ve never been so… afraid? For the first time I’ve thought maybe I’m not actually cut out for this. Maybe dancing should just be a hobby or, God, I’m rambling, aren’t I?” 

Jisung didn’t mind. “Hey,” He nudged him in the side. “It’s okay, I get what you mean. And it’s only natural to feel different when your environment changes, right? This might sound kinda propitiatory but if there’s any one thing I’m confident that I know about you is how much time you’ve put into practice. And I’m sure that hard work will shine through. Maybe it’s generic and vague but they say that sometimes you gotta take a step back in order to see your progress, right? I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t think your passion is in the wrong place and for that at least, I believe you can have faith in yourself. Besides, I don’t think pushing yourself too hard is the way to go either, it’d be a bigger net loss if you injured yourself because of it.” 

There was a long silence. 

At last, Hyunjin choked out a laugh, however shaky. “Propitiatory is a big word.” 

Jisung let the relief wash over him, lifting the corners of his lips. “I write lyrics, baby.” 

“Oh yes. And that poem the teachers pinned on the Literature Board, how could I forget?” 

“You _read_ that embarrassing thing?!” 

“Hey now I thought it was rather nice.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“What happened to ‘I write lyrics’, baby?” 

But they both laughed when Jisung smacked him with his notebook and flopped to the floor. 

Their feather-like boyish mirth dissipated when Jisung looked up and saw Hyunjin leaning on a palm to look down at him. He’s beautiful as always, made even more ethereal with the way the lights from outside glow behind him, fuzzing out his features to look like a fairytale character come alive. 

A Prince. 

The memory appeared in Jisung’s mind like a gentle drizzle on a sunny day. Oh right, back then, when he and Hyunjin had been in the dark and he admired the latter’s beauty, that’s when he said it. _“There’s a lot you don’t know about me~”_

And then Hyunjin had asked, “May I kiss you?” 

And he’d replied. 

“Sure.” 

That’s the moment he realised the last two lines were in real time and not through the telescope of memory. 

Wait, Hyunjin asked to kiss him? And he said yes? It made his head want to combust at the possible ramifications. But Hyunjin was already bending over, already steeled his resolve so Jisung had no choice but to match him. And the fire that burned in those pretty brown eyes seemed to promise Jisung, that even if he can’t give him answers, he could still burn all those questions away. 

Jisung let his eyes slip shut and Hyunjin’s lips were on his… again. 

It’s almost like the one or so year never transpired, and they were picking up right where they left off in the dusty storage closet as if Jisung had only blinked. Skipping the tentative pecks in favour of more confident kisses. Once more in the dark, once more lavender and salt, once more Hyunjin leaning into him. 

Every time Hyunjin pulled away to catch his breath, Jisung trails, arching up, attracted by a weak magnetic force. Hyunjin adjusted so that he’s in essence straddling the younger, one hand cupping his cheek. And when Jisung stopped chasing to sink back onto the sprung wood flooring, Hyunjin dips down for the catch. 

Even on the floor, Hyunjin’s kisses spin his world around and Jisung loops his hands around his neck for stability. He finds his fingers in his hair again, but now they’re pale blond so the moonlight streamed through them, strands of glowing silver burning bright across Jisung’s palm. 

The fire is rising, rising, rising. 

Hyunjin’s name danced on Jisung’s tongue but never spilled over, since he pressed them as hard as he could into the other’s mouth. 

Hyunjin greedily swallowed them all, even the involuntary contented sighs that slip from the back of his throat. Their lips slot and reslot, each time it’s like a burst of paint unfurls across the canvas. Jisung could almost see the image taking shape, could definitely taste it. The longer it dragged, the closer he was to catching fire but still he wanted to play, to see the picture just beyond the edge. 

The world explodes in a sudden light, but it’s the wrong kind, it’s too bright, it's blinding, and everything Jisung has ever known startles out of him as he shoots upright and knocks heads with Hyunjin. 

“What the-!” 

“Owch!” 

“Who’s there?!” 

All three parties look at each other. 

Standing clearly at the door was a very exasperated guard. “Oh my God, the bloody horny youngsters.” He muttered under his breath. “Look kids, you’re not supposed to be here this late, get out, scram!” 

Caught between being ashamed about being seen in such a compromising position and relieved that the incorrect assumption somehow let them off the hook easy - imagine what Admin Office would think if they knew Hyunjin’s true intention - the two pick up what little things they have and sulk out of the building. The guard made sure they’re out of the gates before yelling, “and no more funny business!” further setting Jisung’s shame ablaze. 

He held it down as best as he could, trying to play it off because they hadn’t crossed the line. 

_What line?_

The remnants of the broken picture he was about to see frankenstein into a nightmarish creature, taunting him. 

He stomped down on the tile beneath him, like crushing a bug. Then two more times, but gentler, rubbish coping mechanism on full display, “guess there’s no trap door under here that leads to a magical land where you can dance with princes for days.” 

There is that indecipherable look Jisung recognised from back in the closet, the one Hyunjin had before kissing him a second time. Only this time, Hyunjin broke into a wide smile. 

“No, I think I should take a good rest tonight. After all, someone very kind has told me it’s important to take care of myself.” 

“Very kind and very wise, indeed.” Jisung preened. 

Hyunjin punched his arm. “Well see you around then, Jisung. And thank you.” 

“No problem, man.” Jisung shrugged, watching the other bounce away, waving. His energy was kind of cute and there was a single pulse of disappointment that Hyunjin hadn’t kissed him again. 

Upon realising his train of thought Jisung’s brain simply ceased functioning, not wanting to think in the slightest. Unfortunately for him, the heart is an involuntary muscle that continues to hammer away in his chest. 

Fine, then he’ll take deep breaths, count to ten, and be on his merry way. 

8, 9, 10. His heart was still racing a mile a minute. 11, 12… Fuck Maths. 

**\- three**

By the time he’s 20, Jisung’s managed to somewhat become a part of Hyunjin’s friend group. 

It happened completely by chance on a rainy morning when Jisung sleepily got into the queue at the campus coffee shop right behind the other. He hadn’t recognised him at first, chiefly because he was no longer blond, but when the guy clumsily dropped a handful of coins while digging through his wallet, Jisung bent down to help on some automatic reflex. Then he was face to face with Hwang Hyunjin and all they could say to each other was, “oh.” 

Jisung tried to smile when he straightened, waving the coin in his hand. 

“Here, you erm, dropped this.” 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

A crow passes. 

“You changed your hair.”   
“It’s been raining a lot lately, huh?” 

No need to keep the awkward silence. 

“Yeah, I did.”   
“So it has.” 

Be cool and move on. 

At least they try to, with some awkward hahas in an attempt to abate the atmosphere. 

Jisung was scrambling to find better words in his sleep-addled brain but was beaten to the punch by a new voice popping their bubble. 

“Hyunjin! Oh good, can you order for me?!” 

All they had been doing was attempting to make conversation but Jisung still felt like he'd been caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar. 

The newcomer was Felix, Jisung knew of him, ish, so he offered a small nod. 

The Australian greeted him back with an apprehensive look, obviously more for humouring his friend who had clearly been talking to the other. Hyunjin glanced between the two of them with a look like he’d just eaten a lemon. Right, of course, if Changbin had stumbled into this situation instead, Jisung’s not sure how he’d explain their relation. Still, like eating lemons, it stung a little. 

“So erm,” Felix cleared his throat, “I didn’t know you two were friends?” 

Felix was looking to Hyunjin for an answer, Jisung found he was also looking to Hyunjin for an answer, had put his still beating heart into the male’s pretty hands as he waited. 

“Well I guess we are.” 

_Friends._

Suddenly there was solid ground to stand on. “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Jisung.” 

“Dude, of course I know your name, you’re lowkey famous.” Felix exclaimed, wide eyed, “Oh, I’m Felix by the way. Always wanted to talk to you, man, but I never got the chance. If only I’d known you two knew each other.” He pinched Hyunjin’s arm playfully, “I would have asked to be introduced.” 

“Oh?” Jisung cocked his head. “Fancy that, it’s the same for me. You three always looked like you were having so much fun.” 

“You always wanted to talk to us?” Hyunjin piped in, properly stunned. 

Jisung hummed. Not a complete lie but he had also wanted to talk to Hyunjin in particular, though he was going to take that secret to the grave, naturally, where all good secrets go. “But you guys were always kind of… established, you know?” 

“Well, I have good news for you!” Felix cheered, and before Jisung could raise a brow, his bubbly new friend was flagging over someone from beyond him. 

Kim Seungmin, who was infinitely less enthusiastic and more skeptical about the whole ordeal. 

“Really?” He asked, wearing his cynicism boldly on his sleeve, “THE Han Jisung? Did not expect that.” 

It was Hyunjin who stood up for him. “Aww come on, who are we to read minds?” 

Seungmin directed his sharp, scrutinising gaze towards him. “I’m just saying.” He shrugged. “When did this happen anyway? You will forgive me for being direct, but it is still unexpected.” 

“I know, right?!” Felix added. 

“We ran into each other here and there.” It wasn’t untrue. 

“It’s all fairly recent development.” Hyunjin continued. 

‘You’re telling me,’ Jisung snarked but held his tongue. 

Seungmin dropped the topic but not his guard. Earth, Wind, and Fire, Jisung found himself relating. If Felix were Fire, ever warm and inviting, burning with sincerity; and Hyunjin was Wind, able to tug Jisung any which way and Jisung would be swept away. 

Then Seungmin was Earth, a grounded sentry protecting their little group. 

While Jisung was just Jisung, he didn’t exist as a part of them the way they do. They way they offered each other the comfort of well worn sneakers. 

Whenever Seungmin stays up all night editing a video, Jisung notices how Felix gets extra cuddly with him the day after and how Hyunjin offers him a ride in the morning. 

But Seungmin is more amazing, because when both Hyunjin _and_ Felix are stressed out over a dance routine, he single handedly maintains a sense of routine for them with this amazing mental fortitude. Jisung’s so impressed, really, that he brought the guy a coffee once, just because.

They had different personalities, but they worked off each other well. Jisung was different too, but that’s only because he’d missed the train ages ago. 

By chance, the activity that solidified him into their group, or rather entity, is Lee Minho. Senior in Felix and Hyunjin’s dance programme, bane of Seungmin’s existence. 

Seungmin paired with the senior for one the school’s Cross-Discipline projects, where Seungmin begrudgingly had to shoot one of Minho’s choreography videos. 

For someone two years older than any of them, Minho certainly didn’t feel like it. He’s playful, slipped freely into their dynamics and takes as many friendly jabs as he dishes so it never quite feels like he has two sun cycles over them until it comes time to pay for food or offer some sagely advice. 

Then and only then he frequently sounds like he was born decades ago with his confident wisdom. 

Even when their combined module ended, Minho still hung around the group, and Jisung was a little thankful, because sometimes, ever so slightly, it seemed like he truly can’t surmount the wall of time. That the three friends were a glint of a setting sun too far off in the horizon. Where even Hyunjin - sweet Hyunjin who screams in the face of bugs, and snores in his sleep, and permanently borrows his stationeries - who sometimes slunk back in the shadows for him, like shadows, sink into the night unable to be held. 

As such, it’s not really a surprise when he turned most of his jokes towards Minho, constantly wary of the trio's boundaries as he were, and Minho the ever welcoming embrace of a shore awaiting the waves. 

It was also their blossoming friendship that clued Jisung in on the nature of Minho’s affections for Seungmin. They had all been gathered, squeezed rather, into the place that Hyunjin’s parents rented for him when he got accepted into art school, the affluent asswipe. There was some indiscriminate public holiday the next day so they were free to have a bit of fun and drink on a Sunday night. 

Felix loaded Just Dance into the Glacier White PS4 in the living room. 

Seungmin groaned into a couch cushion, “what did I do for the God of Dance in my past life, to have the honour of being stuck with his followers now.” 

Minho scoffed, “I don’t remember you doing anything for me in your past life.” And toed the sulking boy with his bare feet. 

The realisation appeared in Jisung’s brain with the soft flicker of a lightbulb turning on when he caught Minho looking at the whining Seungmin not with his usual smug countenance, but with an added sweetness as he stared a beat too long. 

Hence, at the next opportunity that Minho shared the same couch with him, Felix challenging Seungmin to a round of Bad Romance and Hyunjin off to the kitchen to replenish snacks, Jisung poked knowingly at the senior, “oya oya?” He put the fingers of each hand together, knocking them into each other as he tilted his head over to Seungmin cutting the rug. His eyebrow waggling dissolved into screaming when he got noogied into the couch in kind. 

Hyunjin stuck his head out from the hallway to check on the noise and Jisung immediately wanted to run to him. Not to spread his hyung’s gossip, he wasn’t a dick, but just the fact that he was excited made him want to leap over to his friend, transferring the joy by diffusion. 

He was thwarted by Minho who, not quite done with his revenge, yanked him down to sit on him, elbows accidentally pressed into Jisung’s sides and the poor chap had always been ticklish. His laughs and screams blended together as he tried to squirm his way out of the hold. Desperate times called for desperate measures. 

“Seungmin! Seungmin! Before I die, I have to tell you, Minno-” 

Minho squished his face with both hands. Faintly, something that sounded a bit like slammed cupboards ring out in the distance, but that must be his imagination. 

“What?” Seungmin asked, but was unwilling to take his eyes off the screen and lose his lead over Felix. 

Minho, on the other hand, did perk up to check the younger’s reaction, and that was Jisung’s opportunity to finally break free from his senior’s grasp. 

“Minnow is the common name for a number of species of small freshwater fish.” He yelled and booked it. 

Seungmin called after him, “you should have just perished.” 

The laughter floated with him into the kitchen, where it trickled into silence, away from the heat of bodies and rambunctious cheer, but it’s a respite more than a drawback. Besides, he could use a glass of water and maybe Hyunjin could use a hand. 

He jogged over, planting himself beside the taller man and watched as he took out a bowl of microwavable popcorn from the little heating machine. 

“Need help?” He rushes, a little winded. Hyunjin eyed him darkly. 

“No.” The dismissal was curt and sharp, pulling the tablecloth from under Jisung’s feet so swiftly he was left standing but disoriented. It’s funny how Hyunjin’s mirroring his shocked expression though. But unlike a mirror, when Hyunjin hurriedly reached over, Jisung pulled back. 

“Oh, erm, okay then. See you.” He managed with a nod, going back quickly to sit gingerly beside Minho. 

Minho furrowed his brows at him and Jisung knew his smile was kind of dizzy from the gyro drop but he hoped it’s enough to assure Minho. 

He should have known that their friendship went both ways, and a deep crease etched itself onto Minho’s forehead. The guy could tell something was wrong, and he had his suspicions. 

When Hyunjin reemerged from the kitchen, a bowl and several drinks in hand, Minho pushed Jisung closer to the armrest and glued himself onto his other side. Jisung didn’t dare to look up but he could feel the suffocation in the tension that ensued. Boy, he should have gotten the water at least, because his throat ran dry. 

Up in front, the difference between day and night, an unsuspecting Felix collapsed to the floor, complaining about losing the match to Seungmin. 

“The motion sensor wasn’t sensing any of my motions!” 

Quickly, Jisung found himself shooting upwards. 

“Ah, a worthy opponent for me. I challenge thee, Sir Kim of Video Production.” 

“Famous last words.” Seungmin responded, pulling Jisung across the boundary. 

It’s a bit surreal how his brain seemed to be kicked into overdrive for the purpose of blocking out thoughts, a large white expanse as far as Jisung could see in his mind’s eye. Layers and layers of thought hanging in the air, intangible but very clearly there. 

Was Hyunjin upset at him? Why was it so painful that he was? Wh- His mind lost focus again. Instead, he filled himself with easy things. Mimicking the actions of the avatar character on screen was an easy thing. Attaching himself to Felix was an easy thing. And drinking, oh drinking was such an easy thing. Can to the lips and down the hatch, and it only got easier from there. 

Once maybe twice, Jisung thought he felt Hyunjin trying to get his attention but every time he’s close, the empty white field rumbles with protest at the monster lurking on the shadowy outskirts, so Jisung never ate a single piece of popcorn that night. 

At some point, he fell asleep, he doesn’t know for how long but when he woke up, he’s lying alone on the couch and someone had draped a blanket over him. In the corner, he could see the clock but it’s set to military time for some reason and Jisung’s head is too cloudy to subtract 12 from 23. Fuck Maths. Letting his vision drift, he noticed the TV screen wasn’t turned off though it’s left in a static state with the PS4 disconnected. It felt like the same static was coursing through his limbs. 

I am the TV. 

And he watched Minho supporting Seungmin out of the door, like they’re a scene on Lifetime. He blinked, the channel changed. Hyunjin was trying to lift Felix from the floor like it’s WWE. He blinked again. Now Hyunjin was crouched before him, peering into his face. 

“Jisung, hey Jisung, you awake? Can you stand?” 

This channel is shit because it’s blurry with tears. Jisung pulled the blanket over himself so that he was hidden. “Go away!” The rational part of him, still floating whimsically away in the back of his mind, recoiled at how petulant he sounded. 

“Wha? Jisung, I’m just trying to get you to bed!” 

“Don’t care.” 

Hyunjin dropped onto the floor as if resigned to be there awhile. 

“Jisung, you can’t sleep here, you’re going to hurt your back.” 

“I’m already hurt.” Jisung sniffled. “You hurt me.” 

Hyunjin made a choked sound. 

Jisung continued, “But I hurt you first, didn’t I? I’m sorry, and yet,” his voice cracked, “I’m more sorry that I don’t know what I did. That’s terrible of me isn’t it? I’m so sorry, Hyunjin.” 

“Please don’t be.” Hyunjin grabbed his shoulder through the material. “It was me. I really… I was being selfish.” 

Jisung didn’t make a move, didn’t know what to say, because he didn’t really understand _what_ Hyunjin was supposedly being selfish about. He loosened his hold on the blanket all the same, letting it sag across him. And very slowly, the weight left his shoulders, and one side of the cloth was being lifted. Peeling back, to see inside everything that was Jisung. 

“Did you know pearls are essentially oyster ulcers?” Jisung heard himself say. “Cus I’m feeling very much like oyster ulcer and not a teensy bit pearly.” 

Hyunjin gave him a wry smile. “How are you always so…” 

Then he bent down, tucked himself into the space so that he was under the blanket too, before reaching out one hand to wipe a shiny tear from Jisung’s cheek. “There’s a pearl, right here.” 

Jisung suddenly felt robbed of his voice. 

Second verse where their roles were reversed. “I’m really sorry, Jisung. I promise I’ll be better for you.” 

Unfair, Jisung’s world was topsy turvy, and the mole under Hyunjin’s eye like the North Star. 

“I’ll be a better friend. Can you forgive me?” 

Jisung sniffed, “I… forgive you.” 

Hyunjin smiled at him again, that strange rueful curve; Jisung had been struggling to understand anything for a while now and this was no exception. 

“Then let’s get you back to your place.” Hyunjin picked up his hand, traced his knuckles, before frowning. “No wait, how sober are you right now? You can crash here for tonight, like Felix.” 

“Just let me sleep here. I think my legs are already snoring.” 

Hyunjin jabbed at his cheek. “No can do. I’m not letting a guest sleep on the couch.” 

With a lot of poking and prodding, Jisung was finally coaxed to sit up, the white sheet falling comically over the front of his face. 

Jisung blinked into the strange glowing orange scenery. “Boo, I’m a ghost.” 

He heard Hyunjin chuckling his windchime laugh from the other side. 

Then carefully, Hyunjin lifted the fabric covering his face, folding it until it sat on the top of his head instead. 

“Now you’re a bride.” 

Jisung felt the heat creep into his cheeks, suddenly painfully sober. He shoved it down, held it at bay, and tried to maintain eye contact. But why was he trying so hard, actually? 

“May I kiss you?” 

Because of that. Because he half expected that. 

It was supposed to be a joke, but his breath came out too heavy, “you may.” 

So Hyunjin did. A chaste peck on the edge of his mouth. Even with just that, Jisung felt his small row boat capsizing. 

My, oh my. 

**\- four**

In the following year, the passage of time plucked Changbin away from Jisung by way of internship and it affected him more than he was initially aware. 

Of course, he’d experienced partings before. Spent one measly year with Chan before he graduated, and they’d kept in contact. Was there to watch Seungmin huff “good riddance” about Minho graduating but they kept in contact too. Surely, it wouldn’t be much different this time? 

Only Jisung didn’t realise, not explicitly, how much Changbin’s presence had soothed him from the previous losses, and how bearable it all was when he could annoy his hyung into stomping the few blocks over to hand deliver cheesecake. 

Now Chan and Changbin shine so bright on their paths, working in real companies, with real people in the industry, leaving Jisung, like a misfired gun, staring up after them in the vast sky. 

But he assured himself he was being silly, and that he just had to keep pushing through. Even if there was a chunk scooped out from his heart, the show must go on. Jisung would make sure of it. He was making sure of it, but why did that make it feel so much worse. 

One of the days, he’s not sure which as they’d started to bleed together in his funk, he’s so tired he just sat on his couch, eyeing the pile of dirty dishes and emptied ramen cups on his coffee table with vacantness. He quite fancied that he was in a rocket ship, somewhere in the galaxy, high above the clouds, and ever so often one of multitude of systems would make a beeping sound, to prove that they were still in working condition. 

Someone knocked at his door, crashing him back to the ground, and he remembered, a beat later, that a functioning person would go get it. 

When he did, it’s Hyunjin, and Jisung had enough sense to be ashamed enough of the sheer state of his living quarters that he doesn’t move to allow the guy entrance, rooted on the spot. 

“Erm,” Hyunjin began. “I just came to check on you because you weren’t answering your phone.” 

Phone? Oh that was what the beeping was. 

“And, well, I take it you forgot our appointment today?” 

Appointment? What day was it even? Jisung picked at his memory. Last night he submitted this essay of some sort and felt relieved enough to binge watch Minecraft videos because he was assured that there wasn’t any school the next day. The next day being Saturday, Saturday, they were going to watch a movie! Hyunjin, Felix, Seungmin, and him. Oh fuck. 

His legs trip from the physical jumpstart. “Shit, I’ll be ready in a few. Sorry,” and as a testament to his still frazzled nerves, moved to slam the door in Hyunjin’s face. Except Hyunjin stuck a foot through the door, grabbed his arm, and pushed his way in. 

“Wait!” He almost commanded and Jisung flinched. “Are you sure you’re up for it? You don’t look very well.” 

That couldn’t be right. 

“Aw what are you talking about? I’m perfectly peachy. Slept a bit late last night but viva la youth! We’ve all been there. I’ll just take a real quick shower, pump some bean juice into my veins and,” he slapped his own thigh, “I’m good to go!” 

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes as the hold on Jisung’s arm got tighter. “You know none of us will hold it against you for feeling unwell, right? You should get some rest if you’re not feeling up to it.” 

The words sounded like they were being filtered through a layer of water before reaching Jisung, echoey and distant. But there was no water for Hyunjin. His eyes saw clearly past Jisung’s bravado, saw through his act, and Jisung very suddenly wanted to gouge those eyes out. 

“Piss off, Hyunjin!” He spat, actually spat, the logical part of his brain chasing after his mouth but failing to catch up. “I said I’m fucking fine.” 

But Hyunjin didn’t falter, as cool as Jisung was fiery. “Does that sound very fine to you?” 

And just like how hot glass shatters when coming into sudden contact with cold water, the last pillars holding up Jisung’s heart give way and Jisung finds his knees buckling. 

Hyunjin led him to the couch, and he caught sight of the mess on his table again except now he violently wanted to flip the whole damn thing over. But he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t do brash things like that, and he’s so painfully embarrassed that Hyunjin was around to see the mess of his apartment. He’d put up this vacuum for so long, the alarm clock in the jar ringing tauntingly without a sound, but it’s finally coming back. Slowly at first, the first drips of a faucet, then it _wails_.

He didn’t know how long he went at it for, where he’s out at sea in the middle of a thunderstorm, but Hyunjin was holding him, the lavender and the salt keeping him afloat. 

As he gradually calms down, Hyunjin pulled back to get a look, using his sleeves to dab at some stray tears while his lips twist in worry. “Feeling better?” 

Not quite. Jisung could feel the pulsing of a cry headache incoming and he’s kind of mortified at the soaked patch he left on Hyunjin’s right shoulder. Yet at the same time, yes, his chest felt much lighter and now that the mist has cleared, Jisung looked into the pond and saw himself in the water. 

He took one ugly sniffle, there was a fever deep in his bones, and let out an exhale. “I miss them so much.” He admits, finally, to himself, to Hyunjin. “They’re such nice people so I know they won’t be mean to me but I feel like by the time I’m out of this joint, they won’t need me in the group anymore. I’m so behind in comparison, I started later than either of them too, and they’re so exponential, you know? I’m always so proud of them. I don’t want to lose them.” 

Hyunjin scooped him into his arms again, Jisung winced about coming into contact with his own snot. “Hey listen. It’s natural to feel different when your environment changes, wasn’t it? I get it, really, but the way I see it, you are just as good as them. And furthermore they’re your teammates, right? That doesn’t just go away because they’re not on campus. Although, it might make you feel better if you talked to them about it? I’m sure you will be as invaluable to them as you are to me, though.” 

The last part just kind of sailed right past Jisung. It struck him as odd at first, how he never considered airing this particular insecurity to Chan or Changbin, but then he realised it wasn’t so strange after all. He’d shared so many ugly feelings with them before, they sometimes felt like the back of his hand and he was completely choked up, looking up and looking up until he forgot to look down. 

So he made up his mind, bugging them to hop on a video call, something they haven’t had to do since Chan gave out his address to the both of them. Changbin joked about them returning to their roots. 

“There’s something I want to say.” 

Chan nodded, his potato of a webcam making the act look like stop motion. “Go ahead, Sungie.” 

“Yeah,” Changbin added, “something’s got you down for awhile, we could tell. But you know you can talk to us about anything.” 

Jisung burst into tears again. 

“Oh My God, Oh My God.” 

Jisung wiped his eyes furiously, and when he looked at his screen again, he could see his hyungs leaning so close into their own screens, trying to get closer to him, that only parts of their shirts remained in frame. He told them his fear, and the act itself was enough to dispel it. 

He felt like himself again, knew the long night was over, which was also strange because it wasn’t like he was aware that he had been feeling otherwise for the past couple of weeks until it snapped free. 

He really had to thank Hyunjin for that. 

Which he decided, as a show of his gratitude, he was going to get Hyunjin the greatest birthday present ever. 

Then he proceeded to stress out about setting his own bar so goddamn high. First of all, this was the first real year that he even properly knew Hyunjin’s birthday and was going to celebrate it, more pressure because he wanted to make a good first birthday impression. (Not to mention last year Hyunjin got him a nice leather bound journal with ‘ALL our DREAMS can come TRUE if we have the COURAGE to pursue them’ engraved onto it, coupled with a slim gold pen topped with a little squirrel. Show-off.) 

Secondly, the dude is _loaded_. Remember the whole apartment that his parents rented for him just to be close to campus? Plus, Hyunjin’d already mentioned that his parents were getting him a shiny new car, seeing as the big 2-1 was considered a special age where he was now legal on every paper. 

Exactly. Jisung’s never seen someone set themselves up for such blatant failure. 

He looked up lists of gifts to give your dancer friends and compared the digits to those in his bank account. Fuck Maths. Or was it Capitalism this time, actually? His first plan had been to get a nice, swanky water bottle seeing as Hyunjin had made a few complaints about his current one, but quickly scratched that when he heard Seungmin planning to do the same. 

A mere two days before the Big Day, the idea finally struck Jisung as he’s strumming random chords on his guitar. 

Oh. 

He leapt out of bed on a time crunch, crossing his fingers with hope that the other boy would like his gift. 

The actual day, a Thursday, saw the four same-aged friends, Minho, and even Chan and Changbin (because Hyunjin let Jisung invite them) cramped closer still into Hyunjin’s apartment. 

It was a bit of a private pre-party, since Hyunjin’s parents had a grander event planned for the weekend. For today, they were simply here to have cake and play Mario Kart. 

Jisung was the last to arrive because of his schedule and he burst through the door, already able to pick up on the warm nips of friendly chatter since the lift doors opened. 

“Hello Bitches!” 

“Nanana nanana nana nanana.” Someone hollered back at him, probably a mix of Felix and Changbin. 

Seungmin yanked him in and shut the door with a loud “Sssssh, I feel like I’m the only one trying to get Hyunjinnie _not_ evicted.” 

“Thank you for your service, bro.” said Hyunjin, who’s inexplicably wrapped in party streamers and wearing five different designs of cone ‘It’s Your Birthday’ hats stacked on top of each other. 

Jisung gasped dramatically, “I thought I was your bro.” 

“Bro, wait, you _are_ my bro, bro!” 

Jisung crossed his arms, acting unsatisfied, “then tell the world we’re bros.” 

Hyunjin padded over, bent down and whispered in his ear. “We’re bros.” 

“Wha- What are you-?” 

“Because you’re my world, bro.” 

Felix choked. Changbin elbowed Chan in the ribs, twice. “Is this allowed?” 

“Ew couples.” Minho fake gagged. 

“You are literally one half of the only official couple here.” Jisung retorted. 

Seungmin took it as his cue to go beet red. 

And the puck was passed, the conversations kept flowing. In between the jokes and the games, there had been little opportunity for Jisung to take out his present but for a while, he let himself be caught up in the pleasantries. 

As the adage goes, time flies when you’re having fun. Over almost as soon as it began, it was time for everyone to take their leave. The little group clustered at the doorway, discussing their means of getting back. 

Chan had a mini van and he offered rides to everyone. Changbin, Jisung, and Felix accepted but Minho and Seungmin opted to walk because, and solely because, they didn’t live too far away. Sure, Jan. 

Jisung was seated comfortably in the back, seat belt half-way pulled across his person, when he felt the hard square box in his pocket. 

“Fuck!” 

Chan gave him a stink eye. 

“I straight up forgot to give him his present!” 

“Han Jisung, the reason I don’t watch TV is because you in my life is all I need.” Changbin gave him a saccharine smile. 

“Whatever.” Jisung stuck out a tongue at him, one foot out the vehicle. “I’ll be quick.” 

He’d only taken three steps when the headlights blink on and the engine roared to life, his ride pulling out of the carpark and into the street road. 

20 bucks says it’s Chan’s idea. 

Jisung sighed and kicked at the asphalt. 

Might as well get it over and done with, he stalked up the stairs, and knocked on Hyunjin’s door. 

The dancer pulled open his door, evidently surprised. He’d taken off the party hats but still had confetti stuck to his pants. 

“Hey?” 

“Hey man.” Jisung bit the bullet, “look I, err, here’s your present. I forgot to hand it over earlier.” 

Hyunjin lit up, taking the small box with glee. “Woah, thank you! You didn’t have to but thanks. Can I open it?” 

“Go ahead.” 

Inside the plush red box was a necklace. Silver chain with a sleek bar pendant carved with the image of a hummingbird and two fishes. 

“It’s beautiful.” 

Jisung flushed. “Not as beautiful as you.” He tried. Hyunjin laughed at least. 

“Okay enough embarrassing myself, I’ll just start trekking my way home now.” 

“Wait, wasn’t Chan hyung driving you?” 

“The traitors left me the moment I stepped out.” But he wasn’t offended, he had this exasperated fond smile. Damn, he loved his friends. “Anyway,” he shrugged, “I ought to get going, happy birthday again, bro. I’m glad you were born into this world.” 

“Hang on, I’ll drive you. Just let me change my pants, I’ll drive you.” 

“Erm-” 

Jisung wanted to tell him it was unnecessary but the taller male had disappeared back into his house already, and it’d probably be rude to walk out on him. 

A few minutes later, Hyunjin was back out, he’d changed and brushed his hair and, Jisung noticed, put on the pendant. 

“Come on.” 

Jisung followed, not knowing what to say. He didn’t even have to give him his address, because Hyunjin already knew from coming over a few times to hang out. They got like this sometimes. Even though they could joke and talk comfortably about anything under the sun for most occasions, sometimes there were these long moments of extreme awkwardness. Lulls in conversation were usually more comfortable, but whenever it’s silent between him and Hyunjin, all he could hear was the rapid pounding of his heart. 

That was, until Hyunjin drives right past his house. 

Huh? 

Jisung twisted as much as he could to look back, confirming that the car had indeed just cruised past his flat. “Hyunjin, you missed my block?” 

“I know.” Was all Hyunjin said, not taking his eyes off the road. 

This time Jisung recognised his elevated heart rate as mild panic. He made a funny disgruntled sound in place of asking an actual question. 

“I just want to show you something.” 

Weird but okay. Jisung settled back into his seat. 

About 20 minutes later, Jisung was acutely aware because he’s been staring at the menu pad thingy (he’s not a driver), Hyunjin just stopped them on the side of a narrow road in the middle of nowhere. Jisung, again, was not a driver, but this didn’t feel very legal. 

But before he could say anything, Hyunjin pointed. 

“See that little building over there?” 

Jisung squinted. “The one with the BBQ restaurant out front?” 

“Yeah.” Hyunjin replied. “That building is where JJP Studios is housed.” 

Now that’s something Jisung knows. Hyunjin’s dream, something he shared with him once on a random summer day when they were out at the beach and just talking. This guy, Park Jinyoung, alumnus of their school - Hyunjin’s looked up to him for forever - started his own dance studio, and Hyunjin’s determination to get in on internship burned hotter than the summer sun. 

Now, Jisung had something he could latch onto. 

“Woah, seriously, cool!” He pressed against the glass as if it could give him a better view. “Fuck, I’m seriously rooting for you.” 

“Thanks.” Hyunjin said and stepped on the pedal again. 

Jisung watched the building for some more beats like an excited child, then it was back to silent confusion. 

In no time, the narrow road convened into a bigger road and this time Jisung knew where they were. He’d been here a couple of times, always with Chan and Changbin because this was where they worked. 

“Huh?” 

Hyunjin stopped them again. 

“And that.” He didn’t have to gesture because they both knew he was talking about the tall building across the bridge. “That’s the place you want to work, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah.” It was Jisung’s dream. 

But what was Hyunjin getting at? 

“I made a wish when I blew out the candles earlier. I wished we both got our goals, and if that happens, I’ll drive you to work like this every day.” 

‘You’re not supposed to tell people your wishes or it won’t come through.’ Jisung thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it, not when Hyunjin looked so solemn and serious about it. 

“That would be nice.” 

“You think we can do it?” 

“Well, I know that ALL our DREAMS can come TRUE if we have the COURAGE to pursue them.” 

Hyunjin snorted. “Yeah? And the FUTURE belongs to those who BELIEVE in the BEAUTY of their DREAMS?” 

“You got it baby.” 

They stay silent for a while, their first comfortable silence. 

Then Hyunjin sat back up, hands on the wheel. “Alright, it’s getting late, let’s really get you home this time.” 

True, it was almost midnight but Jisung found that he quite enjoyed the quiet of the road at this hour, the rest of the city double locking their doors and going to sleep, but Hyunjin and him were still out, running wild without care for the world at large like children. 

He cast a sideways glance, watching the fluorescent orange of the streetlights zipping across Hyunjin’s face, glinting off his pendant. 

11:49pm.

The pendant that Jisung gave him. 

11:50pm, fuck it. 

“You know, I was going to wait to see if you notice but that pendant is actually a USB stick.” 

“Huh? What? Really?” Hyunjin punctuated each syllable by sneaking a glance down but ultimately snapping back to the road too quickly to have processed anything. 

Kind of like when a dog gets told to wait and its brain tells it to but its body won’t stop lurching forward, Jisung laughed. 

“Yeah. It’s got a song on it. That’s… that’s the real present.” 

“What the heck? You wrote me a song?” 

They stopped at a red light. 

“Can I put it on?” 

“Not _now_!” 

Hyunjin slipped the chain off and plugged it into the head unit with one swift motion. Damned dancer grace. 

Guitar chords and Jisung’s voice drift slowly from the speaker. 

The light turned green again. 

Jisung was nervous. He heard himself singing about a rose-coloured world where happiness flutters like hummingbird wings. Fishes swim from the oceans into the sky, singing their carefree songs; and rainbows always show up after rain so he’s grateful to be born again and again and again. 

He was not generally one to be shy about his works but something about how he wrote this entirely on his own, for one person, whom he’s now stuck with in an infinitely small space, as they both listen to the words of his heart, something kind of nerve-wrecking. 

With nobody to pull the stick out, the song petered to its end and looped right back up, filling their space once more. 

“It’s beautiful.” But it’s not the same breath as when he said the pendant was beautiful. It’s lower, quieter. 

“Still not as beautiful as you.” Jisung failed to stick the landing on the joke this time, bogged down by Hyunjin’s mood. 

The car rounded the bend of Jisung’s house and stopped. 

11:58pm. 

“Well this is my stop.” Jisung jumped, eager to get out of there as soon as possible. “Here’s one last happy birthday before the day is over!” 

Jisung never knew he could get out of a car so fast, and he’s on the curb before he knew it. 

“Jisung, wait!” Hyunjin called, some audible fighting with his seat belt later, he popped out from the other door, walking around the hood to reach the latter. 

“One more.” He panted. “One more birthday request.” 

11:59pm. He’s cutting it kind of close but Jisung swallowed. 

“What… What is it?” 

“May I kiss you?” 

There it was. 

Why did Hyunjin keep asking to kiss him? And what did it mean that he kept saying yes? 

Hyunjin pulled him close, and they’re kissing on the sidewalk like nobody’s watching, love like you’ll never be hurt. 

The hour hand struck 12, the clock chime ringing in Jisung’s head. He breaks away, wide eyed. The other shoe had dropped and unlike Cinderella’s pretty glass slipper, it shattered into smithereens along the concrete. 

The dam broke, every oppressed moment spilling out and Jisung was able to watch them all simultaneously and in new light as the shadows finally managed to slip into his white-washed landscape. 

A simple four-letter word. It’s been that simple four-letter word this whole time. 

He was in love with Hyunjin, has _been_ in love with Hyunjin, and it pulled him under the current. 

Hyunjin was visibly shocked by his sudden withdrawal but his brain was too fried and blank at his epiphany to excuse himself. So Hyunjin’s shock shifted into something indecipherable, oh it’s been so long since he last saw that expression, and then the guy shook his head. 

“Good night, Jisung. Sweet dreams.” 

On pure muscle memory, Jisung replies, “text me when you get back.” 

Hyunjin smiled and was gone. 

Entering his house, Jisung opted to take shower before heading to sleep. 

He stood for an extra long time under the showerhead, letting scalding water run down his skin. Eventually, though, he twists the tap off. After all, he could rub his skin raw, free of Hyunjin’s touch, but never the imprint on his heart. 

He looked at the fogged over mirror above the sink. Drawing hearts into the condensation was fun, until the lines start to run. 

**\- five**

Their senior year of art school started pretty solidly and went on with that same high for most of the year. 

After busting his ass for hours on end, Jisung was finally accepted into interning at the same company where Chan and Changbin were now employed. He honestly thought he would vibrate through the floor when the email arrived in his inbox while he was out cafe-hopping with Hyunjin, none the wiser for the chaos it was about to release. 

Jisung pulled his phone out of his pocket at the notification sound, eyes scanning the mail over and over. No ‘we are sorry to inform you’s, no ‘regretfully’s! Jisung flapped his hand and presented his phone, unable to vocalise anything, until Hyunjin finally held his wrist, angling the phone to read the message for himself. Then the same jubilation bloomed across his face and he happily bought Jisung 3 more cheesecakes as Jisung tried to type out the good news to his hyungs. 

The rest of their friend group also find their successes. Not only did Hyunjin make it into final auditions for JJP Studios, Felix was also accepted into a dance school geared towards children as an instructor. 

Meanwhile Seungmin passed the interview to intern at a well known production house, and he’ll be there for the entire period they’re working on a film by one of his favourite directors too. A double blessing! 

There were even some small victories to be had in the field of romance. 

Felix had his senior choreography video shot by a junior named Jeongin, and carrying on the tradition from Seungmin, quickly found a blossoming relationship with the cute fox-eyed male. Seungmin playfully warned the junior of all the downsides to dating a senior in Dance and all it took was for Jisung to pretend to look past Seungmin’s shoulder, fake recognition as he called out, “Minho hyung!” for Seungmin’s entire concept to go flying out of the window. 

Jisung’s genuinely happy for his friends even if he wonders if he’ll ever find romance for himself. 

Things with Hyunjin were… not well defined. Have they ever been well defined? Felt like he’d just accepted uncertainty as their default state from the get-go and never questioned it. At the very least, it meant he had a good number of years to practice feigning normalcy with the guy.

Besides, hanging out with Hyunjin so long, he’d kind of forgotten the whole Prince image, but Hyunjin was still superhumanly handsome and popular and perhaps Jisung never stood a chance to begin with. 

As he would learn. 

It’s an afternoon a few days before the start of internships, the group deciding to meet for lunch at their usual “spot”. Jisung was going to miss this. Apparently, Jeongin was feeling the mild melancholy too because he came to sit with them (read: his boyfriend) instead of his usual friends for the day. 

Jisung plonked himself noisily onto his seat. “Hello, gathered associates.” 

“Hey Sungie!” Felix greeted. Jeongin waved silently while Seungmin vaguely toasted his frappe in Jisung’s general direction. 

Hold on a second, one, two, three, including himself was four. 

“Where’s Hyunjin?” 

Seungmin shook his head sympathetically. “Off breaking another heart.” 

“Innie told us his classmate who filmed Jinne’s choreo video plans to confess.” Felix explained. 

“She’s a nice girl and I respect that she’s still going to shoot her shot,” Jeongin rested his chin on his palm. “Even though anyone with eyes can see Hyunjin hyung is spoken for.” 

“He’s spoken for?” Jisung balked. 

Jeongin just frowned at him. 

So Jisung turned to Seungmin and Felix instead. “Since when?” 

They both look at each other, much too hesitant to speak. 

And Jisung’s heart had no business petrifying the way it did. But how did he not know one of his best friends in the world was dating? Seungmin and Felix… knew? Then why was it supposed to be a secret from him and only him? 

His brain was force shutting down again, but just before the plug got pulled there was a faint echo that sounded kind of like, “why not me?” Then it goes static white. 

“Seriously? How am I supposed to plan my best man speech if I don’t know their story?” 

For some reason, Jeongin frowned harder. 

Jisung ignored that. He’s pretty good at ignoring things. And he managed to ignore Hyunjin for the remaining days leading up to their internships too. It’s more like method acting, since there really were a number of personal projects he wanted to work on before starting so he just kept saying he was busy. 

Then Hyunjin sent him a text. 

‘can we meet please, there’s something i need to tell you’ 

There’s not much he could possibly want to say that had to be prefaced with such seriousness. He probably wanted to talk about all the kissing. Get that sorted out since he was in a proper committed relationship now. 

Truthfully, Jisung doesn’t want to hear it. But he had to, had to let this chapter close, for the both of them. When did he get so mature? All he wanted to do is prick his finger on a spindle and fall into eternal slumber. 

‘okie but can we go somewhere’

He asked Hyunjin to take him to the pier. 

Why the pier? Because it was vast. 

As long as he stared out at it, didn’t look back, there was no city to behold, no city where he fell in love. And maybe he could wash his grief in the salty seawater, to be carried into far off lands for another shot. That was his final selfish wish. 

The wind was pretty strong that day. 

In the horizon, the sun was setting, the sky swathed with ribbons of red and yellow. It’s reminiscent of a line that Ursula says from The Little Mermaid. 

_Before the sun sets on the third day, you've got to get dear old Princie to fall in love with you. That is, he’s got to kiss you._

Hyunjin comes to stand beside him, the wind strong enough that the little strands that hang out of his ponytail fly into his mouth. He sputtered and Jisung giggled despite standing on the precipice of heartbreak. 

The sound brought Hyunjin’s attention back to him. Indecipherable, Jisung’s getting real sick of that word.

“May I kiss you?” He asked. 

_Not just any kiss - the kiss of true love._

Jisung’s going to turn into sea foam, but he can’t voice that, for Hyunjin’s sake. 

Hyunjin seemed to be watching his reaction carefully. Sea foam it was. “Yeah.” 

Hyunjin tilted his chin. They kiss again. There was a familiarity to the feeling of his lips now that gnawed at Jisung’s chest. So he pressed harder, the way he’d done before, to push it all back. Hyunjin must be surprised, Jisung was rarely this bold in their kisses, he made a shocked little gasp. 

Feeling even more emboldened, Jisung licked against Hyunjin’s lip and the latter let him in, settling into the new rhythm fairly quickly. He angled them better, brought his own tongue to brush with Jisung’s. And when he started making light sucks, Jisung knew he was as a fragile as a thinned out polo mint, one suckle away from crumbling in the other’s mouth

The bells went off in Jisung’s head, even for a farewell kiss, he was bordering on asking for too much. He reigned it back in with a painful swallow, disentangling them with a small pop. 

Hyunjin seemed kind of dazed but Jisung really couldn’t bring himself to say anything, so he waited as Hyunjin fumbled around. 

“So erm… The thing is I…” Hyunjin struggles, “right, there’s something… something I want to tell you.” 

Jisung hadn’t noticed before, but the silver chain around Hyunjin’s neck was the necklace with his song. He nodded for the guy to go on. 

Hyunjin opened his mouth but then it all fell apart. 

“Wait, you’re crying.” 

**\+ one**

“Huh?” Jisung asked dumbly. But he promised himself he wouldn’t. “Oh shit I’m so sorry Hyunjin.” He wiped the tears away quickly and held his breath so he didn't have to sniffle. “Erm, you were saying?” 

“What “you were saying”? Jisung is everything okay?” 

“I’m good, I’m good. Must be the wind or something, don’t let me steal your thunder.” 

“But I can’t possibly-” 

“It’s okay, just say it, I,” Jisung paused. And his lips quaver. “I already know.” 

Hyunjin looked mortified. “You do?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” 

“Ah.” Hyunjin was oddly crestfallen. “So I guess this means you’re rejecting me?” 

“I’m- I’m doing what now?” 

“Huh?” 

“Huh?” 

“What?” 

“Well…” Hyunjin scratched the tip of his nose. “You look really pinched. And if you knew I was going to confess to you then, ouch, I surmise you just don’t like me? In that way? Oh that’s probably why you’ve been avoiding me too.” 

“Hold on!” Jisung yelled. “What about your significant other? What’s this about you liking me? This isn’t in my script?!” 

“I- Who told you I was attached?” Hyunjin yelled back. “And what were you thinking I wanted to talk to you about then?” 

Jisung swallowed. 

“Erm, I don’t know, Jeongin said you were spoken for. I figured you just wanted to address all this kissing if you were going to commit with someone else, ya know?” 

Hyunjin opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he relented. “In fairness, we really should have addressed that much sooner.” 

Really, they should, but they couldn’t find it in them, could they? Jisung knew this sentiment well. “Better late than never?” He prompted, waving jazz hands. 

Hyunjin looked down at him with hesitation, then he relaxed and shrugged. “Well first things first, I’ve never dated anyone because I like you. I’ve liked you for a really long time, Han Jisung.” 

Oh. The Heavens sang. 

“You like me?” 

“Yeah, it’s always been you. I think I might have had a crush on you even way back in secondary school.” 

“Pause.” Jisung held up a hand very seriously. “Secondary school?! That’s-” fuck maths. “at least 6 years?” 

Hyunjin only laughed, unabashed and unafraid. “But that was just a crush you know. I thought you had really pretty eyes from the moment I saw you. Never got to talk to you though, because you were like, everyone’s goal in terms of grades? Hell, I think I even believed this rumour that you were some kind of demigod at one point. So I just watched from afar. But then I saw you at that party, I stepped away from Seungmin and Felix for a moment to sit at your circle, and I even got to kiss you? At the time it really didn’t matter to me if we never met again. And I didn’t think we would, for that matter.” 

“Like perpendicular lines?” 

Hyunjin scrunched his face in thought. “I guess.” 

Jisung laughed. “Okay, go on.” 

“Where was- oh right. We did meet again, in the practice room. You showed me that you weren’t really some mythical figure, just some guy who was cute, a little awkward but funny, and also very kind, and it just happened. I fell for your charms and every year that passed between us, I seem only to fall for you more and more. I thought I would be okay remaining your friend forever, but sometimes you have this look on your face, it makes me want to kiss you, makes me feel like you might want me to kiss you. But, I’m guessing I had it all wrong?” 

Jisung puffed out his cheeks. “I’ve just figured out that you’re a dumbass.” 

“After I poured my heart out to you?!” 

“But so am I, really.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Jisung exhaled loudly, rocking on his heels. “Let me get something straight, you kept asking to kiss me because you liked me?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Turns out, I kept saying yes because I like you back.” 

“Woah, seriously?” 

“Yeah, man.” 

“So if I ask if I may ki-” 

“Damnit! Kiss me, kiss me, just KISS ME already, you dolt!” 

And he does. 

**=end=**

**Author's Note:**

> one) the setting is really some fantasy mish mash of a place so take it with a _grain of salt_. i also used legal drinking age of my own country as far as i am aware
> 
> two) visuals for some of the gifts, yes!  
> [changbin's notebook to jisung ](https://www.mara-mi.com/notebook-future-belongs-1ct-16194)  
> [the squirrel pen](https://www.cocomi.com/products/olivia-burton-squirrel-gold-pen-obacs26?variant=31091554844741&currency=SGD&utm_medium=product_sync&utm_source=google&utm_content=sag_organic&utm_campaign=sag_organic&gclid=CjwKCAiArIH_BRB2EiwALfbH1HU9wuC8RilQ09LDHB8YWem5UTzotw0pMX81kk0K4XbSqDm6eTXMwhoCQi8QAvD_BwE) (i personally would buy this if i had more money as a personality trait, it's cute!)  
> [the usb necklace](https://www.etsy.com/sg-en/listing/661781645/hummingbird-usb-flash-drive-necklace?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=usb+necklace&ref=sr_gallery-2-8) (pwetend the two birds at the top corner are fishes cus that's what i mistakenly did) 
> 
> three) the gym shorts thing actually happened to my brother big lmao, but my mother was friends with the woman who lent her son's shorts so she just washed it and gave it back. sorry for exposing you though, bro
> 
> four) to be honest, i just wanted to write a 5x1y cus i realised i've only done it about once in all my time writing fic and this just... happened
> 
> five) the whole kiss buddies tag is a joke but actually at conception, this was much raunchier, trivia trivia. however i just straight up didn't want to write smut
> 
> six) i also only realised while editing but i made jisung cry in some capacity at every point, sorry orz
> 
> seven) there was going to be an epilogue where hyunjin makes good on his promise to drive them to their respective workplaces and jisung gradually starts co-inhabiting with him to make that easier, but i really wanted this out before christmas eve and i'm already running late by a couple of hours
> 
> eight) okay, wow, i got really rambly this time. err, follow my twitter if you want, i have nothing to offer though @bme_mp4


End file.
